Old Habits Die Hard
by CrackityJane
Summary: With the regrouping of the Order meaning more time spent in eachother's company, matters between Snape and Sirius become deeply strained. That is, before a sharp turn of events leaves them questioning everything about their tumultuous relationship. SS/SB
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! This is just a little introduction chapter. Not too long, I know, but I just wanted to get it out there and motivate myself to get going.**

**Setting: Just after the Goblet of Fire and during the first half of The Order of The Phoenix – Y'know, before Sirius is smothered by some ridiculous curtain. Lets pretend that never happened, shall we!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters - that would be JKR. Only the boy-love plot belongs to me ^_^**

**Warning: Beware those of a nervous disposition - there _will _be some swearing and man on man lurve. Gotta love that man on man lurve though...**

**This chapter begins at night in the kitchen of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. An Order meeting has just ended and only Sirius and Snape remain – arguing of course! Onwards and Upwards! **

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You haven't changed a bit since our Hogwarts days, Snape! Not a bloody bit!' roared Sirius Black, an accusatory finger pointing across the long kitchen table towards his nemesis.

'I could say the same for you, Black. Still complaining like an adolescent. Not to mention the fact that you continue to sponge off your parents, even long after they're dead,' Snape drawled.

His remark received the intended reaction from a flushed Sirius who clenched his jaw furiously. Growling, the animagus marched around the table towards Snape, his hands balled tightly into fists. However, this was all in vein, for Severus easily evaded him by taking long, effortless steps out of his reach in the other direction.

Slamming his fist onto the table like a defiant child, Sirius finally came to a stop, realising that any attempt to get his hands around Snape's neck was useless. And so, they found themselves with the length of the table between them just as before. Snape's mouth broke into a sneer, victorious.

'_You_ - ' Sirius began through clenched teeth.

' 'You' _what? _Go on - _say_ it. Just give me an excuse to hex you into next week, Black, I beg you.'

Sirius rested both hands on the cold surface of the table and leaned forward, his eyes wide as saucers as he glared across at the Potions Master.

'You're a stubborn, arrogant, _bitter_ old _prick, _Snape,' he seethed in a low and uncharacteristically calm voice, 'Everything you touch turns to _shit_, and I hope you rot in Azkaban once everyone finally sees you for what you are – a traitor and a _murderer._ I don't care how many times Dumbledore claims you've reformed; because _I _know that once a Death eater, _always_ a death eater.'

He leaned forward further to emphasise his last words to Snape; the words that totally summed up his opinion of the man, 'You _disgust_ me.'

To anyone else, those harsh words would normally have had a staggering effect. Maybe even provoke an outburst of tears, or a small jab of hurt in the chest at least. But for Severus, it was all in a day's work. There was nothing Black could say at this stage that could surprise him, not after twenty or so years of mercilessly terrorising eachother.

Despite this, however, Snape still deemed it an occasion that warranted punishment, and so with great precision and skill, he deftly pulled out his wand, pointed it at the Animagus, and sighed:

'Petrificus totalus.'

Before Sirius had a chance to gasp in surprise, a jet of silver light promptly escaped the tip of Snape's wand and hit him squarely in the chest. Face frozen into an expression of outrage, Sirius' body tipped backwards – stiff as a board - and finally thudded to the ground, causing a small cloud of dust to rise into the air from the kitchen floor.

Snape approached Black's body and looked indifferently down his hooked nose at it. He had to admit, Sirius could still pass for marginally good-looking; that is, if one looked past the scrawny limbs and a face that had been rapidly aged by a twelve year stint in prison. His grey eyes seemed constantly sunken inside hollow sockets, while his cheekbones – though quite elegant – sometimes had the effect of making his face appear more gaunt than it already was.

Severus bent over the body at his feet and grabbed Sirius' right hand. Feeling quite childish - though not particularly caring - he then placed the hand over Black's crotch. Straightening up and standing back to behold the sight before him, Snape's mouth curled into a satisfied smirk. He only hoped that someone like McGonagall or Dumbledore found the Animagus in that position before he managed to gain consciousness.

After giving another quick look back at the unmoving figure sprawled out on the kitchen floor, a pleased Snape finally took his leave. The evening hadn't been so terrible after all.

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**I know it's not much, but maybe you'd like to review? I'd love to hear any suggestions you might have about a storyline, or anything else really. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hogwarts. 7th Year. Night.**

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_'Impedimenta!' Snape snarled through bared teeth as the echo of his voice radiated through the drafty school corridor._

_Sirius yelped in surprise, feeling an invisible force pluck him off his feet and raise him high into the air, just below the ceiling. He hung there like a rag doll as Snape glared up at him with a wildness in his eyes that Sirius had never seen._

_'Let – me – down – right - now!' Sirius gasped breathlessly, throwing his hands out in a desperate attempt to grab at something._

_'Well, well, Black – funny how the tables have turned, isn't it?' sneered Severus. He gave his wand a quick swish and Sirius' body shot upwards in response, causing his head to bump off the ceiling with a dull thud._

_'Fucking ow!' Sirius cried, clutching at his head while his face flushed with anger, 'You'll pay for this, you glorified rodent!'_

_But the threat only made the smirk on Snape's face widen. He had been waiting to do something like this to Black for a long time; waiting to gain the upper hand, to show that he could be in control for once. _

_'Is that so? Well I'll just have to take advantage of this moment while I can then. What was it that Potter said? Oh, yes: 'Who wants to see me take off **Black's** trousers?_

_'You wouldn't dare.'_

_'I _would_.' _

_And with that, Snape gave his wand yet another swish. _

_A horrified Sirius felt the waistband of his trousers begin to draw downwards. He gasped and gripped desperately at the material before it could completely descend - but to no avail._

_'No! Snape!' Sirius shouted, a look of mortification etched on his handsome face. Snape, too drunk on power, ignored him, and so the trousers continued to lower past Sirius' waist, his rear, and eventually his ankles where they finally came to rest._

_Severus was filled with utter glee as he stood there looking up at Sirius, his arch-rival, squirm with embarrassment. Feeling a colour rise in his cheeks at the sight of Black in his boxers, Snape cleared his throat and decided to power ahead regardless. Revenge was the priority now, not his twisted lust for the boy. Besides, Black would positively wet himself if he knew..._

_'Not so funny from the other side of the wand - is it, Black?' seethed Snape, tilting his head to the side in mock-sympathy for the other boy._

_'Oh, you'll know all about being on the other side of the wand when I get down from here!' Sirius spat angrily, still unable to pull up his trousers or steady himself as he levitated._

_Snape's mouth curled upwards even further. Sirius' threats had quite lost their intensity in his current vulnerable state._

_The animagus' body gave another frustrated jerk, but, squeezing his eyes shut in irritation, Sirius realised he had merely succeeded in freeing his wand from his trouser pocket. He groaned, as he heard the wooden stick rattle against the stone floor below, and looked down to discover that it had landed right at Snape's feet.._

_'Bollocks.'_

_Snape looked first at the wand and then up at Sirius, with smugness practically radiating from his face. _

_'How unfortunate,' Snape sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm, 'I think this is about as embarrassing as it gets for you, Black.'_

_Then, drawing his wand slowly downwards, Snape watched as a humiliated Sirius floated to the ground. The Gryffindor was unsteady on his feet at first and tripped over his trousers which were still gathered around his ankles. Blushing madly, he bent over and hoisted them up, fastening the belt once the trousers were in place._

_'Happy now, Snivellus? Hmm? Satisfied you've fulfilled this little fantasy of yours?' Sirius demanded furiously, putting his hands on his narrow waist and glaring at the other boy._

_'Words couldn't describe how happy I am,' _

_Snape then bent downwards to pluck up the wand that had conveniently fallen at his feet, and held it out for Sirius to take. _

_Sirius scrutinized the Slytherin for a few moments before cautiously approaching him. He finally came to a stop just inches from Snape and made to grab his precious wand. But before he could, Severus had teasingly snapped it up into the air, out of the shorter boy's reach. A cruel sneer flickered across his mouth as he glared at Sirius standing helplessly before him._

_Flames ignited in Sirius' eyes as though a fuse in his brain snapped. He lunged forward with a violent roar and closed a tight, unrelenting grip around the front of Snape's robes._

_'Give me the bloody wand, you slimy bastard!' he snarled in an almost dog-like manner._

_Although startled, Snape was by no means afraid. He was acutely aware that should a duel ensue, he was by far the more shrewd wizard. And he guessed that Black knew that too._

_Severus merely smirked. Teasingly, he brought the wand downwards and just slightly into Black's reach. Seeing this, Sirius made another grab at it, but was again, to his intense annoyance, unsuccessful._

_'Ah, ah,' Snape tutted mockingly, almost in a whisper, 'Have you forgotten your manners, Black?'_

_Severus could feel his senses going into overdrive. Sirius' smell – that intoxicating sweetness – along with the closeness of their bodies was making him positively dizzy. Not to mention the sensation of Black's grip on his robes. He fought to keep his composure, yet endeavoured to drag out the moment for as long as possible._

_With an exasperated huff, Sirius suddenly released his grip on Snape's robes and rose onto the tips of his toes. Then, not once taking his eyes off the Slytherin, he reached upwards. With both hands he slowly began to loosen Severus' hold on his wand, forcefully prying back each finger one at a time._

_Though he could easily have put a stop to what Sirius was doing, Snape didn't, and instead let him continue, watching him closely as he did so. The ray of moonlight that shone through a nearby window had a dazzling effect on the Gryffindor's appearance, making him look almost translucent. Snape so envied those girls - all those girls – that had had the chance to...._

_Torso to torso, their breaths intertwined to cause an almost claustrophobic atmosphere. It finally came down to Snape's little finger - the only finger that remained around Sirius' wand – and Severus knew that this little encounter was soon to end._

_Not thinking and all rationale lost in a fit of carelessness, Snape raised his free hand while an oblivious Sirius continued to struggle with the other. Trembling - breath catching in his throat and lips parted - he hovered the skeletal hand over the Griffindor's cheek before finally making contact with the skin._

_Sirius' eyes widened in surprise and... horror. With a gasp he immediately leapt away from Snape, suddenly forgetting all about his wand which the other boy still held._

_Severus felt his heart sink into his shoes. Why on earth had he done that?_

_The two stared at one another with a good, safe, meter between them. Unable to look at Black anymore, Snape covered his face with his hands and allowed the Gryffindor's wand to slip through his fingers and fall to the ground._

_Sirius stood aghast in the corridor, and watched the hunched-over figure of Severus Snape turn on his heel and hurry back in the direction of the Slytherin common room._

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	3. Chapter 3

A week on from their previous disagreement, both Severus and Sirius found themselves, once again, in the bleak surroundings of the Black family kitchen, it's dark wallpaper yellowing and mildewed, and curling back from the walls at it's edges. However, instead of drawn wands and raised voices, this encounter was marked by a forced civility between the two. Dumbledore had called an Order meeting, and the men were joined that evening by a small group of people who were now seated around the vast table at the centre of the room, waiting patiently for proceedings to begin.

The Order had become accustomed to such intimate little gatherings. There had been a distinct lull in Voldemort's activities since the Triwizard Tournament. Yet despite this, Dumbledore still thought it imperative to keep on top of things, viewing the halt in events simply as the calm before the storm. Every small detail counted, no matter how small, which is why everyone who could make it each found themselves in Grimmauld Place every week - Sometimes even twice a week, in fact.

'Tonight I am most pleased to announce,' Dumbledore began in a cheerful, dulcet tone from the head of the table, 'That we are joined by a new addition to our family: Miss Hestia Jones.'

He raised a hand and gestured in the direction of a plump, dark-haired witch, who in turn beamed back at him. She then turned in her seat to acknowledge everyone else who immediately greeted her with 'Hello's' and warm smiles, all glad and somewhat relieved to have another ally on their side. Once the welcome had ended, Dumbledore went on to discuss various Ministry workers whom he planned on recruiting to the Order.

All heads turned to look at him, listening intently and capturing every word - except for two dark-haired men. Snape, already bored, allowed his eyes to wander and was immediately met with the sight of an incensed Sirius glaring straight at him from across the table. The corners of Snape's mouth slowly curled upwards in bemusement, watching as the other man continued to leer unblinkingly in his direction, in what was no doubt a reaction to the 'Petrificus Totalus' incident of last week.

Snape observed as Black's lips parted and began to soundlessly form the word 'Bastard' - obviously intending to intimidate the Potions Master. Yet, instead (and to his shame) all Severus could manage to focus on was the shapeliness of Sirius' mouth; the way his bottom lip was plumper than his top, which curved upwards pleasantly at the centre to form what Severus regarded as the perfect pout – even after all these years....

'Severus?'

Snape's gaze broke from Sirius' seething face to find that Dumbledore was looking expectantly down the table at him. It was then that he realised he had absolutely no idea of what was going on beyond that irritating man that sat opposite him.

'Do you have anything more you would like to add to the discussion? Any further news on Death Eater activity?' Dumbledore enquired with an encouraging smile.

'Nothing to report as of yet,' Severus finally replied, gathering his thoughts, 'The Dark Lord is focusing his attention on regrouping his followers and killing those that have betrayed him. Not until that is carried out will he begin to make any drastic plans - '

'Why must you _insist_ on calling him 'The Dark Lord', Snape?' Sirius snarled out of nowhere, cutting him off, 'Why can't you just call him 'Voldemort' like the rest of us? Or is there _something_ holding you back?'

The atmosphere around the table abruptly shifted. Shoulders tensed and breaths became bated in anticipation for what was to come, as everyone present switched their gazes to look at Snape.

'How very typical of you to prioritise such trivial things over what's really important, Black,' Snape shot back, staring at his clasped hands on the table. Then, raising his eyes to look at Sirius, he added: 'Just like a child.'

Sirius shot up from the slumped position he had been in earlier and slammed his fists down on the arm rests of his chair.

'You _patronising_ old - '

'_Sirius_,' Dumbledore warned, peering over the rim of his half-moon spectacles towards the flustered animagus, 'I would be most grateful if you didn't finish that sentence.'

'No – I'm sorry, Albus, but I can't just let him get away with that! The snarky git deserves to be put in his place!'

'Oh, put a stopper in it, Black,' Snape spat across at him, 'No one wants to hear your petty complaints. You should be careful - One might come under the impression that you actually _like_ the attention, ' he finished sarcastically with a condescending smirk.

Meanwhile, Ms. Jones bit down on her lip, looking as though she felt decidedly out of her depth.

'Qui_et,' _ordered Dumbledore in a booming voice, startling the two men.

'Boys, boys,' he continued, calmer this time, 'You're both far too old for that kind of behaviour. Come now, lets get back to the matter at hand...'

And so the meeting continued without any further outbursts from the pair, who instead settled for narrow-eyed glares whenever Dumbledore wasn't looking.

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**A week later.**

Snape entered the front door of Number 12 Grimmauld Place to be greeted by the sound of distant chatter. It grew louder – sometimes even bursting into hearty fits of laughter - as he advanced down the narrow entrance hall and came closer to the drawing room door_._

It certainly didn't sound like Severus' kind of gathering, and he would have considered turning to leave if it weren't for an important errand he had to run. The full moon was fast approaching, meaning that Lupin was in need of his Wolfsbane brew. He pressed his hand distractedly to the vial of thick green gloop in his cloak pocket, before grudgingly reaching out for the door knob.

A frown worked across Snape's face as the door opened to reveal a large gathering of familiar faces. At the centre of the smiling group was Lupin, clutching one hand around the shoulder of the considerably smaller Sirius, and holding up a goblet with the other. A bashful Sirius beamed around at the crowd, and seemed to be swaying slightly on the spot. Snape guessed with an annoyed roll of his eyes that firewhiskey was at the root of all this.

The room had been decorated with countless streamers that draped from the light fixtures. It was then that Snape realised, as his eyes fell upon a banner hanging over the mantelpiece, that he had just stumbled upon a birthday celebration. Sirius Black's birthday celebration - as indicated by the banner - for that matter.

No one seemed to have noticed Severus' arrival over the loud din, which suited him just perfectly. Closing the door quietly behind him, he took up a position in the shadows by the coat hanger and leaned against the wall, his face seething at the sight before him.

'I've known this man for longer than I care to mention,' Remus announced fondly to the gathering, 'And apart from his unfortunate twelve year absence [laughter] he's always been there when I needed him most – as I'm sure he has been for all of you. So, if you'll all join me in raising your goblets, I'd like to toast a great friend. To Sirius - may you enjoy many more birthdays to come!'

'To Sirius!' everyone cheered, clinking their goblets together before raising them to their mouths and taking a gulp.

Sirius grimaced, blushing at the attention he was receiving. But his happy glow was soon replaced by a hateful scowl as his gaze finally fell on Severus.

'Merlin's Beard, you never give up, do you?' Sirius demanded, breaking away from Lupin to approach an indifferent Snape, 'I can't ever escape your miserable mug – not even on my bloody birthday!'

'My heart bleeds, Black,' Snape sighed with a look of disdain at the Animagus, 'However, as much as I'd love to stay and rain praise and birthday wishes down upon you, I merely came do deliver Lupin's potion.'

He delved into his pocket to take out the Wolfsbane brew before pointedly looking across the room at Lupin. The werewolf had been watching the confrontation between the two anxiously – probably anticipating one of their usual arguments. Meanwhile, the other guests seemed to notice the tention and began to quieten down, prompting Molly Weasley to take charge.

'I think it's time we all had a slice of birthday cake, hmm?' she enthused with a jittery, over-enthusiastic giggle. Everyone except Sirius, Snape and Remus followed her lead and quickly disappeared into the kitchen, leaving a crisp silence to smother the drawing room.

Remus advanced towards the other two and appreciatively took the vial from Snape's outstretched hand, Sirius all the while maintaining his haughty demeanour.

'Thank you, Severus,' Lupin smiled good-naturedly, 'How kind of you to drop it by.'

'You're mistaking my duties as Potions Master for kindness, Lupin,' Severus corrected wearily as he turned to leave.

'Oh, do stay,' Remus urged, 'You're as welcome here as anyone else. We just assumed... well, that it wasn't your cup of tea.'

Sirius' head jerked to look over his shoulder at Remus, an expression of outrage dawning on his face.

'Hang on just a minute - ' he began, but was stopped short by a stern look from Lupin.

Snape turned back on his heel to face the pair with raised eyebrows.

'You assumed right - ' he began, before Lupin quickly thrust a goblet of firewhiskey into his hand.

Remus then beamed at Snape, ignoring the outraged stare that was directed at him, and turned to head in the direction of the kitchen where the party had been relocated.

Left alone and at a loss for words, Sirius and Snape both frowned uncomfortably. In a bid to suppress his irritation at the situation, Black eagerly knocked back the contents of his goblet with Snape following his lead soon after.

'That man is too damned nice for his own good,' Sirius grumbled. He turned his back on Snape and headed towards an old office swivel chair in the middle of the room. Snape had no idea, nor did he care to find out how on earth it had gotten there. No doubt Mundungus had snatched it from an abandoned building somewhere or another. He really did have an awful habit of collecting the most useless junk.

With a strained sigh, Sirius plonked himself into the seat.

''_Nice_' would not be the word I would use,' muttered Snape, as he wandered towards a large portrait of the Black family that hung on the wall nearby. Framed by bronze, intertwined snakes (more than likely a proud reference to their Slytherin background), the picture showed a despairing little Sirius surrounded by his glaring brother, Regulus, and parents. The Gryffindor, who appeared to be no more than twelve years old, looked utterly miserable – as did the other family members. Severus guessed his own family might have looked no different had they been able to afford such a professional portrait.

At the other end of the drawing room, Sirius reached a hand forward to grab a bottle of firewhiskey from the coffee table. After refilling his drink, he lazily swivelled his chair around to look across at Snape.

'I gather you'll be wanting a top-up if you're intending to stay?' he asked curtly.

'Obviously,' seethed Snape, turning away from the painting to approach the other man before holding out his goblet to be filled.

Sirius tipped the bottle sideways to allow the liquid to pour out, and as he did so, Snape found himself looking down on the animagus' head of dark waves. There wasn't a bald patch in sight, he noticed, yet still a light peppering of grey was making it's way through the silky locks_._

Snape could smell Sirius from where he stood. It was the same distinct sweetness he had come to associate with the man... very much like the scent that he would notice wafting from the sweet shops of Diagon Alley.

All at once, memories began to flood back. Almost as a knee-jerk reaction, Snape slowly breathed in the smell until he could practically taste it at the back of his throat. He blinked out of the daze - this moment of foolishness – just as his drink had been filled to the brim, and grudgingly moved away to sit down in a nearby armchair.

'Shouldn't you be in the kitchen with the others? I'd _hate _to think you're missing out on some cake.'

'Yes, well... the cake can wait,' Sirius spat impatiently, as he suddenly sat up straight in his chair to look across at Severus, 'Look here, Snape; Dumbledore isn't happy about this bickering that we seem to be doing all the time - Says it's getting in the way of more important issues. Anyway, the point is it has to stop. That's not to say that we can't still detest eachother _inwardly._ I just mean that this shouting and hexing isn't appropriate around the others.'

'How very _adult_ of you to point out, Black. It appears turning a year older has finally transformed you into an almost mature, civilised human being,' Snape commented sardonically.

A vein pulsed in Sirius' temple. He shut his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath inwards before opening them again to glare at Snape.

'Say what you want, _Snape_. But all you're doing is proving that I'm the bigger man by _not responding_.'

'I think you'll find that you're by far the shortest person in this house at the moment – not including Kreacher,' muttered Severus, unable to help himself.

Sirius snarled furiously and grabbed a cushion that laid on the couch nearby. He hurled it roughly at Snape's head, the collision immediately causing the contents of Severus' goblet to topple down the front of his robes. To Severus' intense annoyance, the firewhiskey began to seep right through the material and onto the skin underneath. He jumped to his feet, outraged, and stared disbelievingly over at Sirius who was doubled over in his seat, barking with laughter.

'_You bloody idiot__!_' Snape hissed, flinching slightly as he felt the cold liquid continue to trickle down his chest.

After finally regaining his composure, Sirius rose to his feet and swaggered elegantly towards Snape, the expression on his face one of blatant mock remorse.

'I'm _terribly_ sorry,' he purred, smirking uncontrollably and outstretching a hand to glide it over the damp patch on Snape's chest, '_Really_ I am. Oh, gosh, you certainly are _soaked_, aren't you? By the way, that little prank of your's last week – very funny, you _prat_.'

Severus gulped at the contact with Sirius' slender hand. It was infuriating that this pubescent infatuation was rearing it's ugly head again after all these years - after _everything_ that had happened. His eyes darted downwards to stare as an amused Black obliviously patted the damp material of the robes.

'Get off me,' Severus spat, forcing himself to snap out of his stupor as he batted away Sirius' hand. Then, plucking his wand from his trouser pocket, he pointed it down at his robes and watched as the liquid evaporated, leaving them robes bone dry.

'There – see?' Sirius chimed patronzingly, 'All gone. No harm done.'

Then, returning back to the coffee table for the bottle of whiskey, Black filled up his rapidly disappearing drink once again as well as Snape's discarded goblet. He then approached Severus and held out the drink for the Potions Master to take. His face ashen with annoyance, Severus snapped the goblet from Black with a barely contained snarl.

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After another half hour or so (though neither could really tell) of silently knocking back goblet after gobelt of firewhiskey, Molly Weasley's smiling face finally poked through the kitchen doorway.

'Sirius dear, you'd better get in here quick before your cake is all gone,' she called out, giggling, 'I swear, between Arthur and Mad-Eye, hardly anyone has had the chance to get their hand in edgeways for a piece'

'I'll be right there, Molly, don't you worry!' Sirius replied as he got up, rather unsteadily, from his chair. After taking one last gulp from his goblet, he bent over and left it on the small coffee table nearby.

'You too, Severus,' Molly urged with an encouraging smile, receiving no answer except a raised eyebrow.

'Come on now!' she insisted cheerily before disappearing back into the kitchen.

Considering it was Molly Weasley, Snape realised he simply had no choice in the matter and gruffly set down his goblet before standing up. Suddenly aware that he had indulged a little too much in the firewhiskey, he blinked when the surroundings became momentarily blurred. In front of him, he could see that Sirius was in a similar predicament.

Then without warning the animagus appeared to trip over his own feet, and before he realised what he was doing, Snape found himself propping Sirius up by his elbows - as though guiding a small child who was learning how to walk. Sirius automatically clasped around Severus' arms for support as he fought against the cruelness of gravity that strained to tug him to the ground.

'Urgh,' the animagus mumbled, staring at his feet as though they were alien to him. Then, slowly bringing his gaze upwards, grey eyes finally locked with almost-black ones. Cursing himself, Snape suddenly felt the memory of their seventh year at Hogwarts come thundering back to him. Those hands entwined in his school robes, the smell, the hair, the eyelashes, the mouth, the cheek, the closeness, the....

It was as though the awkwardness of the situation had a sobering effect on Black; like an ice-cold splash of water on the face. With his eyes dropping back to the floor, Sirius roughly jerked his hands away from Snape, took a step backwards, and soon managed to stand up straight with minimal swaying.

Severus cleared his throat loudly and fixed a scowl on his face. Both opened their both simultaneously to speak, yet immediately stopped, seeing that the other was about to say something.

'You should - '

'Lets - '

Sirius grimaced uncomfortably.

'Oh for Merlin's sake,' he spat, rolling his eyes after a few moments of wavering silence, 'What I was going to say was lets go into the kitchen before Molly drags us out herself.'

'If you can manage to make it that far, that is,' Snape drawled, gesturing towards the door.

Black's eyes narrowed, and after fixing the creases on the sleeves of his burgundy jacket, he made his way in the direction of the kitchen, with Snape following in his footsteps.

'Merlin, it's almost like watching a toddler learn how to walk.'

'Do shut it, Snape.'


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello again! I'm a bit mad at myself for taking longer than usual to update, it's just college exams and the likes got in the way. Sorry about that. Anyway, I'm back on track and thank you very much for the nice reviews. X**

_**Hogwarts. 7th Year.**_

_**..........................................................**_

_It was a fresh summer's day and the good mood around Hogwarts was infectious. Well, almost. Skulking on a bench in a shaded corner of the courtyard - out of the blaring heat of the sun - was Severus Snape, his face buried in a transfiguration revision book. Meanwhile, the yard was bustling with students, basking in the warmth, joking and laughing, chatting back and forth._

_From the corner of his eye, Snape became very aware of a certain Sirius Black and his adoring sidekick for the day, Peter Pettigrew, huddled together nearby, deep in conversation. It was one of the few instances that all four of the Marauders were not together, and Severus rather preferred it that way. Sirius always seemed crueller when in the company of James Potter whom he relentlessly showed off in front of._

_The pair appeared to be having a disagreement of sorts. Sirius had his arms folded, rolling his eyes and tapping his foot impatiently as Pettigrew berated him, staring at Black as if he'd gone mad. Finally Sirius threw his head back in defeat, heaving a sigh, before being shoved forward quite forcibly in Severus' direction by his gormless friend._

_Snape curiously watched this unfold, suddenly becoming quite sick with nerves as he saw Sirius and Pettigrew walking towards him. Stomach cramping and hands starting to fidget anxiously, Severus finally sensed their presence looming above him. The revision book promptly slipped from his lap and fell to the grass at his feet as he peered up at them, the rays of sun behind their heads almost blinding his vision._

_'What do _you _want?' Snape seethed, a shake detectable in his voice as his eyes quickly darted to Black's face. He stretched downwards to pick up the book before questioningly looking up at the two again._

_Sirius merely stared, downcast, at Severus' shoes, while at his side, Peter leered expectantly at his friend. When Black still refused to speak, Pettigrew nudged him again, urging him to say something. With a heavy sigh, Sirius raised his eyes from the ground to look at the Slytherin, his face completely blank - which was a change from the usual arrogant smirk he wore._

_'Peter and I have had a... falling out of sorts with Potter and Lupin,' he began carefully, 'And we were wondering... if you'd help us come up with a prank to play on them. We... we know that you're smart... when it comes to that kind of... stuff.'_

_Severus was taken aback. It was certainly the last thing he expected to come out of Black's mouth, especially after that 'impedimenta' incident which occurred on a night not so long ago. Not only was there a rift between the wonderful Marauders, but now two members of that very group wanted his help...?_

_'A prank? On Potter?' echoed Snape, not quite believing his ears._

_Sirius nodded. Pettigrew broke into a maniacal smile._

_Severus looked down at his hands, churning the idea over in his mind. Did this mean that Sirius was unfazed by what had happened? By what he had probably gathered about Snape? Or had he even worked it out at all?_

_Finally he cleared his throat and looked back up at the sunlight-framed silhouette of the handsome boy that stood over him._

_'Alright. When do you want to start planning?'_

_Surprisingly, Sirius frowned in response. Presumably because he was so put out by the quarrel with his best friend, Potter. That and probably the fact that he had lowered himself to consorting with the likes of Snape._

_'_Tell_ him,' Pettigrew hissed into Black's ear._

_'How about...' Sirius began quietly, yet trailing off before he could finish._

_Peter exhaled exasperatedly and, deciding to take charge, pushed Sirius aside so he now stood before Snape._

_'The Shrieking Shack. Tonight. That way we can be sure of no interruptions,' the round Gryffindor told him firmly._

_'And how the bloody hell do you suggest we get there?' Snape asked. Pettigrew annoyed him thoroughly, simply because he always had a habit of standing submissively in the background in every situation that arose, grinning like an idiot. He had absolutely no respect for people like that._

_'It's simple; all you have to do is go to the Whomping Willow, get a nice long stick and prod the biggest knot around the base of the trunk – you'll know which one I'm talking about when you see it – and 'poof!' the branches stop moving! Then you follow that little tunnel until you end up in the Shrieking Shack. See? Easy.'_

_Severus nodded. 'What time?'_

_'Be there at - '_

_'Wait – Peter -' Sirius interrupted suddenly, looking somewhat frantic._

_Peter rolled his eyes, as though he was expecting it. 'What is it _now_, Sirius?'_

_But Black said nothing. Instead he dove both hands into his pockets and shuffled his feet uncomfortably, still staring at the ground._

_'Oh, grow up, Black,' Severus berated, annoyed, 'I know I'm a Slytherin, but do _try _to put our house rivalry aside for a short while at least. We_ are_ aiming for the same goal, after all, which is preferably the complete humiliation of that Potter idiot.'_

_'Yeah,' Pettigrew agreed enthusiastically with a grin, 'As I was saying, be there at ten.'_

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**Spinners End. Present Day.**

Severus didn't know why he had even bothered going to bed that night. That feeling of impending insomnia had been creeping up through his limbs since early that evening; that irritating tingling - that over-exhaustion. And now there he lay, staring wide-eyed up at the ceiling while the moonlight attempted to peek through the narrow parting of the curtains.

He sat up in bed, hugging his knees to his chest, and allowed his head to fall downwards. It was useless. Yanking the covers back, Snape hauled his cadaverous, haggard body from the bed and changed back into his usual uniform of black trousers, black boots, and black frock. Making sure to avoid the mirror, he left the bedroom and traipsed down the stairs to his sparsely furnished sitting room.

This routine was certainly nothing new for Severus. Ever since he entered his twenties – about the time when he had become elbow-deep in Death Eater matters – he had been plagued by an extremely inconsistent sleeping pattern. He had long since accepted it as a simple fact that sometimes he slept, and sometimes – often days on end – he didn't.

With a worn-out sigh, he sank into an armchair by the fireplace that still glowed dimly with the light of dying embers. He hated this state of mind – this limbo between wanting to sleep so badly and yet being tricked by your body that you didn't _need_ to. His head dropped back against the headrest as he mused over what to do for the night, when suddenly the fireplace flared into life.

Dropping his gaze back down again, Snape was startled to see the last head he expected to find poking through his fireplace in the early hours of the morning.

'Snape? Ugh, fuck – Snape? Are you there you tiresome old git?' called out an irritable-sounding Sirius. His face seemed contorted and out of focus, as though he were rocking back and forth on the spot.

'Black?' Severus peered narrow-eyed at the bodiless head, 'It's two in the morning - What do you think you're doing?'

'It's – I – I'm after getting myself into... a spot of bother,' Sirius grumbled, pain flitting across his face.

'Well go on, what is it?'

'Can you – maybe – come through?' he asked. It was so uncharacteristic of him to say - and with such a note of pleading in his voice to boot - that, despite himself, Severus found himself feeling slightly concerned.

'Black? Are you injured?' he queried, leaning forward in his chair.

Without warning, Sirius' eyes began to glaze over, and gradually they rolled into the back of his head.

'I think – I think I'm gonna - ' he managed to utter before his face finally disappeared, leaving a darkness to swallow the small sitting room once again.

Severus sat frozen, staring at the space where Sirius' head had been. Had the Fidelius charm on Grimmauld Place been discovered and broken? Had there been an attack?

Without another moment's hesitation, Snape stood up, pocketed a handful of potions that he kept on the mantelpiece in the event of a highly probable attack and it's resulting injuries, and sank his hand into the jar of floo powder. Stepping into the fireplace, Severus tossed down what silver powder he had grabbed and exclaimed 'Number 12, Grimmauld Place.'

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	5. Chapter 5

**(If some of you were wondering why Snape uses the floo network instead of just apparating, that's because I assumed he would have all these anti-apparition wards and the likes on Spinner's End, just like Dumbledore had on Hogwarts. Am I wrong in thinking that, I wonder?)**

**I don't even know if I like this chapter to be honest, so if you have any suggestions on how to improve it I'd be very glad to read them. Why is it that Sirius/Snape slash is so frackin' difficult?! X**

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**Grimmauld Place. Present Day.**

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Appearing in a blaze of green flames, Snape stepped out of the fireplace at the Black family home to find Sirius alone and passed out on the ground, right at his feet. Not only was he unconscious, but the man's clothes – a simple grey shirt and trousers - were soaked in dark, angry-looking blood. Fearing the worst, Severus promptly sank to his knees in order to inspect the battered body more closely.

The animagus was truly a mess. Peering up and down the length of the small figure before him, Severus could hardly believe how feeble Black looked as he laid there, curled up in the foetal position with his face frozen into a picture of anguish. He had never seen Sirius look so vulnerable before - the only Sirius he had known up until then being the arrogant, overly self-assured man, with a hint of the psychotic.

Putting a thumb to Black's wrist, Severus breathed a sigh of relief to discover a pulse, for the time being at least. There was no doubt that he had lost a lot of blood, judging by the pool that was now gathering on the ancient rug beneath him, and so he knew that acting fast was imperative.

'Black - wake up,' ordered Snape in a pathetically meek voice. He cleared his throat.

'_Black_.'

No response. Rising to his feet after muttering 'incendio' at the fireplace, Severus bent over Sirius' body and heaved it upwards into his arms with surprisingly little effort due to the man's weight – or rather, the lack of it. Feeling a tingling warmth ignite in his chest, Snape looked down at Sirius' lulling head. Falling sideways, it eventually came to rest in the crevice of the Potions Master's underarm, his hair tumbling over his face in blood and dirt-matted waves as it did so. Severus found himself holding back an overwhelming urge to hug the man closer to him, and forcing his gaze away, his eyes tactfully sought out the drawing-room couch before heading towards it.

With all the gentleness and care Snape could muster, he slowly set down Sirius' fragile body lengthways across the tattered old sofa. Then, just as he was about to peal off Black's clothes to inspect the extent of the damage, a pitiful whimper escaped the animagus' parted lips. Snape froze and stared as Sirius' eyelids fluttered open to reveal bloodshot, frightened orbs. They immediately darted upwards to look at Severus and widened.

'If you even _think_ of telling Dumbledore or Remus about this I'll - ' Sirius began in a hoarse voice, unsuccessful in his attempt to sound intimidating.

Snape rolled his eyes, his face darkening with disappointment that Sirius had gained consciousness so quickly. He would have preferred to carry out the healing process without the inevitable running commentary of insults and criticisms.

'Give it a rest, Black. I'm in no mood to listen to your empty threats. Now take off your shirt quickly so I can see the damage you've done.'

Something in Sirius' gaze faltered for a moment as he hesitated to follow orders, the realisation that Snape would have to see him partially unclothed suddenly dawning on him. He soon grudgingly acquiesced, however, and carefully lifted off his blood-stained shirt, wincing as the material ghosted across the raw flesh. Severus raised an eyebrow as he allowed his gaze to fall over the battered torso that was revealed before him. The skin was coloured by angry purples, reds, and blues, and was an ugly mass of swollen bumps and wounds from which oozed a steady flow of blood.

'Well?' Sirius asked anxiously, watching Snape stare down at him.

Snape didn't reply and wordlessly knelt down on the decrepit wooden floor beside the sofa. Sirius flinched reflexively in response, the sudden closeness being something that both were quite unaccustomed to. Snape simply glared at him despondently. This would be a bothersome task to say the least.

After taking another few moments to size up Black's chest, Snape put a hand into his robes to pull out three vials; two containing a green substance, while inside the other was quite a serious-looking blue liquid. Pulling the cork stopper out of one of the containers, he then poured a grape-sized amount of the lumpy green ointment onto the palm of his hand.

'What's that?' The animagus demanded suspiciously, looking from the ointment to Snape's infuriatingly blank face, 'Snape - '

'Qui-_et' _Snape growled. Hiding the shake in his hands was exhausting in itself; dealing with Black's complaints on top of that was more than he was willing to deal with. Pursing his lips, he then reached out a slender hand to the heavily wounded chest and began to gently spread the ointment over the flesh. Beside him, he heard Sirius gasp at the contact and quickly shot out a hand to grasp at the Potions Master's wrist.

Severus gave his most terrifying glare - known to reduce students into a tearful mess - and stared from Sirius's grip to the animagus' face.

'Tell me, Black; Do you really think it's wise to interfere when someone is _saving your life_?

'Why can't I just – just – rub it in myself?' stuttered Sirius, his eyes as wide as saucers.

'You would no doubt make a complete mess of it, considering you can barely stay conscious.'

Sirius fixed his eyes on Snape's for a moment, clearly in mental turmoil as he debated the situation in his mind. He had no choice, of course, and so after giving a small nod, he finally released his grip on the other man's forearm, surrendering to his plight.

Severus sneered and recommenced the task of applying the ointment. Already the wounds were beginning to close up and fade as they absorbed the green substance, the deeper cuts leaving only faint marks behind. Handing the vial of blue liquid to Sirius, Snape instructed him to drink it: 'It's for any internal bleeding.'

After exactly three tense minutes of silence (Severus had been counting), Sirius' torso was almost completely healed and the man himself seemed considerably perkier, so Snape decided to ask the burning question.

'Would you care to tell me what sort of ridiculous dilemma you've gotten yourself into this time?' he questioned, annoyed that Sirius hadn't already offered up the information.

'I... I just... went out for a while... to the centre of London – in dog form, of course.'

He was clearly embarrassed about what had happened, undoubtedly because there was no one else to blame for his quandary but himself.

Predictably, Snape sneered and shook is head at the animagus' foolishness.

'You don't understand,' Sirius complained, 'This dump is _suffocating_ me. I had to get out, even for just an hour'

'The usual melodrama...'

'Anyway,' continued Black loudly, deciding to ignore Snape's comment, 'I was wandering down Oxford Street minding my own bloody business when this drugged-up looney just lunges at me out of nowhere. Foaming at the mouth, he was. Gods, he almost looked as bad as I did after Azkaban.'

'Muggles and their substance abuse...' Snape muttered absent-mindedly, pouring out the last of the green ointment onto his palm and applying it to the skin.

'So he tried picking me up and putting me into his shopping trolley – yeah, he had a shopping trolley, by the way – and obviously I bit him, which made him completely loose the run of himself. - Ouch! Careful! - So then he started pummelling me with his fists and kicking me non-fucking-stop until I managed to break free. Didn't even attempt to apparate in case I splinched myself, so I had to walk the whole way back here.'

'I don't know what else you expected strutting about London like that in the early hours of the morning.' Snape chastised, finally getting stiffly to his feet and pocketing the empty potion vials, 'Why is it, Black, that you continually insist upon ignoring basic common-sense like a sulking teenager? You're here for your own good. It's time you realised that and put aside this juvenile mindset of yours.'

Sirius snorted as he sat up on the couch, running a hand over his newly healed chest, 'Careful there, Snape – one might think you're concerned.'

'Don't flatter yourself.' A seething glower.

'Will – will the bruises go away?' asked Sirius hopefully as he peered down at the lingering purple and green blotches along his ribcage.

'You'll notice them beginning to wane in about half an hour. Bruises take longer to heal than normal surface wounds.'

Sirius nodded and rose to his feet, forgetting that he was still topless. Unable to help himself, Snape's eyes flickered to the tattoos that dotted Black's flesh. Ancient runes, glyphs and symbols flared into life as the illuminating glow of the nearby fireplace suddenly hit them. They were a change from the usual Dark Mark's that he saw, regretfully, on a regular basis, and strangely, they rather suited Sirius. Presuming that Snape's reaction to his body art was one of disdain, Sirius self-consciously grabbed a burgundy velvet jacket from a chair and threw it on.

'Right. Well. That's that then. Er... Thanks.'

'I trust you won't be needing further assistance?'

'Yeah, give me a massage will you? My neck is banjaxed.' Sirius scoffed while bringing a hand up to brush against it. To his chagrin however, the little quip did not have the desired effect, and Snape merely looked at him vacantly.

'Joking.' Sirius mumbled, 'It was... a joke.'

'Hilarious. I'm leaving you with this ointment should you find more wounds elsewhere, [he looked pointedly down at Sirius' lower body] or in case the wounds on your chest don't completely disappear within the hour. However you shouldn't need to use it.'

Snape held out a vial which Sirius took with a nod, before a curious frown then began to spread across Black's face.

'Wait here for a moment.' He instructed before disappearing through the kitchen door. Upon his return, Snape could see that he was holding something in his hand. The Animagus then reached out and gently grasped the Potions Master's wrist, pulling it forward so he could place a small bag in the palm of Severus' hand. The jingling sound it made indicated that the contents were in fact coins.

'What - ' Snape began, with a puzzled glance at Black.

'I want you to take this for coming to my aid.' Sirius told him somewhat hesitantly, 'I thought you might be the best person to go to, and I was right. I know this must have been.... _difficult _for you to do considering how I've treated you like dung since – well, forever really.'

'So _sorry _to burst your bubble, Black, but contrary to your belief I did not come here simply to put you back together again. I was under the impression there had been some sort of attack, not a mere foolish blunder on your part. Now take the money back this instant because I will _not _be accepting it.'

And he held the bag out defiantly, expecting Sirius to take it. But he didn't. Instead he folded his arms, not budging an inch.

'It still doesn't change the fact that you saved me from certain death, Snape. And I _was_ attacked, just not by - '

'Someone that actually posed a threat?' Snape cut in smugly.

Sirius' jaw clenched. 'Just take it, will you!'

'I don't _want_ your bloody - '

Sirius marched indignantly towards him and seized the hand that Snape held the bag in. The gesture startled Severus, and his stomach throbbed annoyingly in response. He stared downwards and watched as Black intently closed Snape's fingers around the bag, tightening them into a fist over the money. He then gazed, resolute, at Severus with devastatingly ethereal grey eyes, making Snape almost dissolve into a blabbering mess right then and there. He gulped as Sirius spoke to him in a low, careful voice – and, despite himself, found that he had leaned forward just slightly to ensure he caught each word.

'Stop being such a stubborn git, Snape - ' Black had ordered ever so softly, ' - and _keep_ the _bloody_ money.'

Becoming accutely aware that his hands were growing clammy, Severus made to pull away from Sirius' grasp. But to no avail. He looked from their entwined hands to Sirius' face and clenched his teeth.

'_Remove _your _hands,_' Snape hissed. But to his surprise, Sirius appeared to totally ignore his order.

'Stop,' the animagus breathed with a curious frown on his face, 'Just... _Stop_.'

Severus watched in utter shock as Sirius Black - the very person he had loathed yet shamefully lusted after for most of his life - began to lean inwards, tugging Snape's hand towards him as he did so. Oddly, a distinct feeling of dread descended over Severus in those short few miliseconds, and although this exact moment had been a veritable wet dream of his as a teenager, he found that right now it just felt wrong; ridiculously so.

He pulled away roughly just as Sirius was mere centimetres from his lips and stepped backwards, putting a good meter between them.

'I don't know what you're trying to pull, Black - '

'No - I - ' Sirius stammered, looking half way between horrified and confused.

'Master has made a mess of the rug. His mother's favourite rug; oh, how she would weep if she saw it now...'

The two men's heads jerked to look at the tiny, hunched-over figure of Kreacher who had just emerged from the shadows, shaking his head at the numerous bloodstains covering the floor and ancient mat.

Sirius went to approach him and began barking various put-downs at the old house elf regarding the shoddy state of the house and how he should always announce himself before entering a room.

Seeing his chance, Severus placed the small bag of coins on the mantelpiece and took a handful of floo powder from a nearby pot. Then, standing into the fireplace, he caught one last look at Sirius who suddenly turned away from Kreacher to look at him, and announced 'No. 118, Spinner's End.' The word 'Wait' began to form on Sirius' lips, but before the sound could reach Snape's ears, he had disappeared in a blaze of green.

Severus was angry – no, _furious_ – at himself for allowing his mind to simply blot out a memory that had shaped and should by all rights continue to shape his attitude towards Sirius Black for the rest of his life. The fact that he himself – the _victim_ - had glazed over that horrendous event in favour of foolish lust, andwent running to the very man that had carried it out made him feel sick to his stomach. And more ashamed than he could fathom.

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**Hogwarts. 7th Year.**

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_That night, the sky and everything that sprawled below it had been illuminated by a dazzling full moon. Glad that there was no need for a lumos charm, which may indeed have gotten him sighted by a patrolling professor, Severus zig-zagged between the shadows, darting behind walls and old ruins as he gradually advanced towards his destination: the Whomping Willow. He wondered if Black and Pettigrew had reached the Shrieking Shack yet, and if so, were they still willing to go ahead with planning the prank? They could have made up with Potter and Lupin by now...._

_Maybe Peter, that imbecile, had been feeling particularly lazy that night and decided instead to stay behind, Severus speculated; in that case, it would just be he and Sirius... Alone._

_Snape finally found himself standing just meters away from the tree and it's flailing branches. It seemed that night time had no effect on it, as it thrashed about just as aggressively as during the day. He cast his gaze about the surroundings, searching for a branch long enough to poke at the knot Peter had spoken of. Eventually he found one and picked it up before cautiously approaching the tree, making sure to keep just outside the branch's scope. Kneeling down on the grass, he carefully eyed his target at the base of the Whomping Willow and then thrust the branch forward in it's direction._

_To his amazement, Severus watched as the tree slowly began to waver in it's attempts to whack him on the head, and finally stop all movement altogether. He had never seen it quite so calm and... ordinary looking. Quickly throwing the branch aside, he hurried towards the bark of the Willow - lest it come back to life again – and suddenly noticed the entrance to a tunnel. From afar, the entrance had always just looked like a mere gap in the tree's roots – nothing special – but as Severus gazed into it's depths, he realised that it was quite a significant drop downwards._

_Taking a deep breath inwards, Snape began to lower himself so that he sat just on the cusp of the entrance. Then, with an anxious gulp, he launched his body forwards into the void of the tunnel and disappeared underground. The journey was quite unpleasant and Severus kept his eyes tightly shut, trying to ignore the mud that was gathering on his robes as he zoomed downwards. Then, without warning, the Slytherin found himself colliding face-first with the ground from which dust promptly surged, making him sneeze._

_Snape rose to his feet, rubbing his elbow which had received the brunt of the impact, and scanned the room. The Shack looked almost exactly how he had imagined; decrepit old wooden floorboards, cracked windows, rat droppings, dust caking every surface. And then there was that sound, that strained creaking as the house inched just slightly from side to side on it's foundations._

_Then, out of nowhere, a throaty growl echoed through the room. Severus turned on his heel and froze when he saw the source of the noise; stepping out from the corner was a large black dog, it's teeth bared and spittle dripping from it's mouth as it slowly approached the boy. Snape backed away, terrified, until his spine made contact with the wall, before diving a hand into his robes for his wand and pointing it forwards. The dog faltered for a moment, as if realising that the wand meant danger, yet continued in Snape's direction again – only faster this time. Severus's eyes widened, and he promptly opened his mouth to cry out a hex when the dog suddenly pounced on him, securing a bite on his robes and dragging him out from the wall. Snape's body tensed in horror and his hand lost it's grip on his wand, causing it to fall to the ground, out of his reach._

_'Get off me!' the Slytherin gasped, desperately trying to release his robes from the dog's mouth, yet to no avail._

_The dog was impossibly strong, and Snape found himself almost tripping over himself as he was tugged further forward towards, it seemed, the tunnel he had just travelled down. Then, with all the strength he could muster, the boy drew his left leg back before forcefully hurling it against the dog's face. It released it's bite immediately and stumbled backwards, whimpering and bowing it's head down in pain. Seeing his chance, Snape ran towards the door at the opposite side of the room and opened it, forgetting his wand. However, what he saw at the other side was much more terrifying than the dog._

_Hunched over, just meters away from Severus with it's back to him, was a hideous-looking creature. It's mousey brown fur was matted, and was missing in some areas where it was replaced by angry purple scars. The spine of the animal poked through the skin of it's back, and it looked generally malnourished, it's limbs nothing more than skin and bone. Because of his further reading of the Defence Against the Dark Arts book, Snape instantly recognised all the tell-tale characteristics; the stance, the body shape, the measurements. The realisation of what this beast was hit him like a wrecking ball: a werewolf. It stood there shuddering, apparently in a world of it's own, while at the other side of the room sat, more strangely, a large stag with a rat settled on it's back. Both heads jerked upwards to look curiously at Snape, before the stag quickly stood up, causing the rat to roll off and fall to the ground._

_Snape gasped loudly, frozen to the spot with fear, as the stag advanced towards him with a clear determination. _Where was Sirius?_ The situation worsened considerably when the werewolf heard the commotion behind him and craned it's miserable head back to look at the three. Misery soon switched to intense rage in a matter of miliseconds as the creature's eyes fell on the trembling Severus. It's whole body swivelled around to face the boy, it's head jutting forward, eyes as wide as saucers, and Snape just knew it could smell his terror. A lump rose in his neck, realising that he was going to die right then and there in this wretched house, probably to remain undiscovered for a decade at least, considering no one ever dared come here. It's not as if anyone, besides Dumbledore perhaps, would care in any case. His father would surely down an extra bottle of cheap whiskey in celebration, and he would be one less burden for his mother to bear on her tired, weak shoulders._

_Severus closed his eyes and braced himself, waiting for the creature to pounce. But it never did. Instead he found a pair of hands on him – human hands that gripped at his arms and shoved him backwards through the open door behind. He opened his eyes to see, not a stag, but none other than a frantic James Potter before him holding the door that held the werewolf inside shut with huge difficulty, the rat standing on it's hind legs at his feet._

_'Potter!' Snape hissed in disbelief, 'You - '_

_'Shut-up Snape.... There's... no time!' Potter shouted, not taking his eyes off the door knob that he was clutching at, whilst the door itself was trying to be pulled back from the other side._

_Meanwhile in the corner, the black dog that Snape had fought against earlier snapped to attention, watching Potter struggle with the door yet not moving to attack him. He appeared to recognise the boy, in fact, as well as the rat. What was going on here?_

_'Colloportus!' James yelled, his wand outstretched. Sparks automatically flew and the door slammed shut, causing a blood-curdling howl to emanate from the room beside them. The werewolf was obviously incensed._

_'Come on,' Potter mumbled distractedly, grabbing Severus' wrist and dragging him towards the tunnel entrance._

_'What the bloody hell just happened?!' Snape demanded, tugging his arm out of James' clutches and turning to look at him._

_'If you don't get out of here now then you're going to be, at the very least, seriously mauled by _that,_' Potter shouted back, pointing a finger towards the door that was now beginning to splinter at the edges as the werewolf's collided with it again and again._

_It's anger finally peaked as a paw of sharpened claws crashed through the door, causing a gaping hole to suddenly appear. Potter had already climbed into the tunnel entrance and positioned himself there, holding out his hand for Snape to take. _

_But before they knew it, the werewolf had come crashing through the door, it's eyes already fixed on it's next meal; Severus. Snape's eyes widened in terror, and he desperately scrambled towards James until a merciless bite closed around his ankle._

_'No!' he cried as he tumbled to the ground and his body was slowly dragged backwards into the beast's clutches._

_'Stupefy!' came a mighty shout and the creature was instantly hit in the chest with a red stream of light, causing it to release it's bite and pass out. Without a moment's hesitation, Snape limped towards the tunnel, grabbed James' handed, and hauled himself along through the passage, scraping his way through the mud and insects._

_The pair eventually reached the surface and collapsed onto the grass underneath the Whomping Willow which was, thankfully, still immobile. Severus closed his eyes, his ankle throbbing as he trembled, fighting to catch his breath. He opened them again moments later to see someone standing over him, staring downwards. While his vision adjusted he began to make out a head of shoulder-length waves, then glistening grey eyes, then a Gryffindor tie, and finally, a raw wound to the side of the face._

_'Snape,' Sirius whispered, almost inaudibly, 'I'm - I...'_

_Severus sat up, unable to keep the sheer hurt he felt from showing on his face. Then, reaching down to grab at the section of his robes that had been gnawed at and torn by the dog minutes before, he looked up at Sirius again._

_'You.' he uttered in disbelief, realisation suddenly dawning on his face over who the person behind the dog facade had been._

_Meanwhile, the rat had clawed it's way out of the tunnel and quickly began to grow considerably in size until it had fully transformed into human form; Peter Pettigrew. He then approached Sirius's side and gazed down at Snape on the ground, a cruel smirk spreading across his mouth._

_'Did we forget to mention to you, Snivellus, that we'd be joined by a few friends tonight?' Pettigrew jeered before shrieking with laughter._

_'Shut-up, Peter!' Potter fumed, marching toward his friend, 'Gods, do you even realise that you almost got him killed?! What a stupid thing to do!'_

_'Oh, come on, it was just a joke! Besides, nobody got hurt. And Padfoot was in on it as well, so you needn't put all the blame on me.'_

_Snape could barely hear what the two were shouting over the sound of his own heart beating in his ears as he stared up at Sirius. The Gryffindor could barely bring himself to look at him and drew a hand downwards along his bruised face in exasperation. His eyes suddenly stinging with tears, Severus rose unsteadily to his feet and staggered back in the direction of the school._

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**Oh, please do review! And thank you very much for reading!**


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